


What Will Be

by Nowherewoman42



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Demon Blood, Gen, Pre-Series, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series John Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:40:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28291044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nowherewoman42/pseuds/Nowherewoman42
Summary: A demon tells John that it's too late to save Sam and he will have to kill him.
Kudos: 9





	What Will Be

**Author's Note:**

> This is just another short pre-series fic exploring how John would have responded to learning about Sam's Demon Blood if he had found out when Dean and Sam were still children.

John stared at the young woman in front of him, dark brown hair draped over pale skin, her body slack against the binds that held her to her chair, dust danced about in the dim light that seeped through the barns single window. He knew he should make sure she was alive now that the exorcism was complete and the demon was gone, but he found himself rooted where he stood. His heart was pounding, still surprised he managed to stammer out the exorcism in his current state of mind the words the demon had spoken still swirling inside.

John had glared at the demon as it laughed. “Oh John Winchester, the mighty hunter, couldn’t save wifey and won’t save your son.”

“You will not be getting anywhere near either of my boys.” He seethed, eyes darting to the lines of the devil’s trap to ensure no escape was possible.

“No, I won’t be getting near them, but somebody will.” She had grinned an evil smile.

“Who?” John demanded.

“Not a bright man are you, John?” The demon laughed again then sighed. “Who is behind all of your problems, Winchester?”

“No.” John’s eyes had widened in disbelief. “Yellow eyes?” He spoke softly, more to himself than to the monster in front of him. Panic building. “The boys are safe at Bobby’s” He reassured himself internally.

“His name’s Azazel, there is no need for the pseudonym. I’m not really supposed to tell you, but I can’t resist getting to see the look on your face.” The creature bit it’s lip, almost playfully. “You see, he has big plans for little Sammy. Always has. That’s why Mary went up in smoke you see, she got in the way.”

“What does he want with Sammy?” John spit the question, trying to hide fear with venom. It didn’t succeed.

“To make little Sammy one of us. He succeeded John. It’s only a matter of time.” She smiled tauntingly again.

“My son would never be like you.”

“He will be, unless you stop it.” The creature leered again.

“How do I stop it?” He asked cautiously, prepared for a lie, there was no reason for the demon to tell him the truth.

“You’ll have to kill him.” Another shrill laugh pierced the silence of the old barn.

John’s blood turned to ice in his veins. “No. You’re lying. Demons lie.”

“Not when the truth hurts more.” Her voice was cold and smooth. “Better hurry and do it too, you’re already on borrowed time.”

John had heard enough and remembered his purpose for being on the desolate farm and began the exorcism. “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus…”

He shook himself and finally found the will to move forward and pressed two fingers to the woman’s neck, finding a weak but steady pulse. He quickly but carefully loaded the unconscious woman into his truck and headed toward’s the nearest hospital. The words “you have to kill him” playing over and over in his mind as he drove. He left the woman outside the emergency room and quickly sped off, a twinge of guilt he couldn’t take her inside, but he couldn’t risk having to explain how he found her, not when he needed to get back to his boys.

The drive back to Singer’s Salvage took three hours but might as well have taken three days. He through his truck in park in Bobby’s drive and all but ran to the house.

“John, you’re back a day early. Did everything go alright?” Bobby tried to ask as he opened the door to let the other hunter in.

“Yeah, yeah, Bobby where are the boys? I need to see them.”

“Asleep in their room upstairs, John are you okay?” Concern flickered across his face. John was usually eager to check on his son’s once he returned from a hunt, but this was clearly something more.

John didn’t answer, instead he turned to the stairs and took them two at a time until he reached his son’s bedroom door, flinging it open in his haste. The door collided with the wall with a solid thunk and two young boys stirred with surprise.

Dean bolted up right and turned surprised filled eyes to the source of the sound. “Dad?” He asked, confusion in his voice, but a smile on his face.

“Daddy!” Sam replied, tumbling out of bed and running towards the man. “You’re back!”

John scooped the small child up in his arms. His racing heart and mind finally slowing. His boys were together and safe. They were fine. “Hey kiddo.” His voice was soft as he let the child nuzzle into his neck. “Hey, Dean. I didn’t mean to wake you, just wanted to check on you.”

“’S-okay, Dad.” Dean replied, already settling back into bed.

John walked to his older son’s side, younger son still in his arms and gently ruffled his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead. “Goodnight, Dean. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Goodnight Dad.” Dean answered before rolling over and closing his eyes.

John carried Sam back to his bed and put the boy down gently before pulling the blankets up around his pudgy form. “Goodnight Sammy.” John kissed his younger son goodnight and as he stood “You have to kill him” played through his head. The thought almost brought him to his knees, especially as a sleepy voice responded. “G’night Daddy, love you.” John felt the air again leave his lungs and he rushed from the room closing the door behind him and turning to face his friend waiting in the hall, a mix of confusion, concern, and exasperation playing upon his face.

“What was that John? Bobby asked, stress leaking into his voice. It was always something with the Winchesters.

“I got the demon possessing that girl in Keystone.” John spoke, rubbing a calloused hand across his face tiredly.

“Okay, and did something go wrong?” Bobby wasn’t following John’s train of thought from successful hunt to terror for his boys.

“Not exactly.” He sighed. “Before I could exorcise it. The thing said it knew about Mary.”

“Oh.” Bobby had known the man long enough to know that any mention of the night his late wife died would send him in into a spiral.

“That’s not all.” John paused and lowered his voice. “She said it was there for Sammy.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “We’ll keep the kid safe, Johnny. I won’t let anything happen to him and neither would you.”

“Said it’s plan was to turn him, make him go dark side. She said the only way to stop it, was to kill him.”

“Demons lie. They were just trying to get into your head.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m gonna go to bed, thanks for keeping an eye on the boys.”

“Anytime, Johnny.”

John made his way downstairs to the couch and prepared to go to sleep for the night, desperate to put the days events behind him. He tossed and turned for hours before finally succumbing to a nightmare filled sleep. Visions of Sam as a young man plagued him. Sam with blood dripping down from his mouth. Sam with pitch black eyes. Sam with his hand around Dean’s neck.

John awoke with a start, feelings of dread swirling in his mind. The dreams were more real than any he had had before he knew that what he had seen wasn’t a normal nightmare, but a vision of the future, of Sam’s future, and he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He knew he had to kill Sam.

John sat up on the couch and stared at the wall. “The longer I wait, the worse this will be.” He had to decide how to do it. “Gun would be quickest.” He mumbled to himself. He knew he couldn’t do that. It felt so violent and would be hard to explain to the cops. His eyes fell on the bottles along Bobby’s bookshelf. “I could just slip something into his food. It would be quick for Sammy and might not be as traumatic for Dean to see.”

John rose from the couch and picked the vial he needed, hemlock. John then made his way to the kitchen as if he was in a trance. He told himself it was simple, a bit of hemlock mixed into Sammy’s morning pancakes, no fear, no pain. Dean would be safe and Sammy would be spared from a fate worse than death, the fate of a monster.

Just as John was going to pour the vial into the bowl of batter, he felt pressure against his legs and looked down. Sammy had woken up and wandered downstairs, tousled and messy curls framing chubby cheeks and wide eyes.

“G-mornin’ Daddy, what cha doin’?” He spoke happily, always the morning person unlike his older brother.

For the second time in two days Sam’s voice snapped John back to reality. He dropped the vial he was holding and shook his head quickly to clear it. “What was I about to do?” John felt his chest constrict in terror and despair. “What was I thinking?” He ruffled Sam’s hair. “Just making breakfast Sammy. Why don’t you run upstairs and wake up your brother?”

“Okay!” Sam replied quickly and scurried off.

John hurried and placed the bottle of poison back on Bobby’s shelf, his plan tossed for good and John returned to the kitchen, determined to pretend he had never even thought of something so horrible. He knew there was no way he could do it, he couldn’t hurt Sammy. He would find a way to save him.


End file.
